


I know

by Aredhel_Alcarin



Category: Jurassic World: Camp Cretaceous (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, I just wanted to post this before s2, They talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:40:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28741884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aredhel_Alcarin/pseuds/Aredhel_Alcarin
Summary: Kenji and Ben have a talk.(Well, Kenji tries to talk, but Ben already knows.)
Relationships: Kenji Kon & Ben Pincus
Comments: 8
Kudos: 41





	I know

Now that they’re alone he feels like a fool, but he’s already told Ben he wants to talk. He didn’t say anything like ‘we need to talk’ or ‘there’s something I’ve gotta tell you’, or any other equally overdramatic nonsense; nor even ‘I want to talk to you’, because all of them seem too affected and solemn and this isn’t really this important. It’s nothing, really, all forgotten. Well, not forgotten, but. Over. So he simply said, ‘hey, Ben, have a sec?’, when the rest had gone to sleep (it’s been _weeks_ since they found a new camp area, since Kenji decided he should say something — _anything_ —; and this is the first night Ben is the last one to go to bed. It must be done at night, you see).

Night-time is the best moment to, uh, _talk_ ; because everyone else is sleeping and you can’t raise your voice and it’s cold and you’re sleepy and so you want to finish as soon as possible, plus it’s dark and you can always blame the awkwardness on the late hour.

So. He should say something.

Ben is looking at him with a worried (classic) and kind of self-possessed (not so classic) expression, and really Kenji would like to say that after what happened he looks tough and athletic and rugged in that I’ve-had-to-survive-in-the -jungle Hollywood star kind of way; but he doesn’t. He looks better than when they find him, sure, and at this point they’re all tired and drained and shaggy; yet when they found him— it was _terrifying_. Enough time had passed for him to be on his feet, walking, but even then he had to lean on Bumpy after a while. That was normal. His stance, the roughness of his hands, but above all his eyes, now that was another story. He wasn’t bloody anymore, though he must have been; you could see his fingers trembling from a distance, and it was like he was looking through you. He didn’t see you. He didn’t look badass, he simply looked malnourished. Exhausted.

No one has any idea how he could have survived that fall, although there has been some speculation (that he landed on a bunch of fallen, gigantic leaf cushion that softened the crash, or maybe that the trees helped reduce the free fall motion; or simply that he’s young enough for his bones to be a little flexible yet); but they don’t really care. It took a few days for Ben to get used to them again, to not be alone, but he’s okay now. He’s— well. He’s alive, and that’s what matters.

But, anyway. He should say something.

“I’m sorry” Kenji blurts, because that’s the only thing that sounds remotely close to what he’s been feeling. He clears his throat and tries to open his mouth to speak again, but nothing comes out. He’s usually very good at talking, very smooth, but they’re in a very hostile environment; so he’ll have to work with that.

To his surprise, Ben relaxes his shoulders and sighs a sad smile. He seems to know what he means, so that makes things easier.

“I know.”

Kenji waits, in case there’s more (it should be more), but Ben remains silent.

“How can you be so… _not angry_ ” Kenji complains, not to Ben, or, yes, to Ben; trying to express with his hands what he’s not capable with words. “I’d be furious with me. With us” he quickly adds, to then rectify, “with me.”

Tilting his head, Ben frowns. His lanky arms rest on his lap, his bony knees almost touching each other, but maybe there’s something in his nervous posture that has changed.

“I am angry” he confesses, like it’s obvious. Like he’s almost apologizing for it, “but not with you, guys. Certainly not with _you_ , specifically. Why would I?”

“We didn’t look for you.”

“Yet you found me!” Ben says, and there’s warmth in his voice, but Kenji knows that’s bullshit. They only started looking when they realized they couldn’t leave the island, and even then he was assumed dead. They shouldn’t have assumed.

(He must have said that out loud.)

“I would have done the same” Ben says, in a very tiny voice. “That’s… basic survival. I fell from an impossible height and you guys were running for your life, I couldn’t expect you to risk it even more when you had a chance to leave. No, listen” Ben cuts, when Kenji was about to open his mouth. “If you could have left you would have asked for help. You would’ve send a rescue team, with helicopters and all that, I mean, I would’ve thought they were already on their way anyway; and, well, they’re prepared for this kind of thing. They would have found me.”

Kenji scoffs, but feels a little lighter.

“What I mean is, you guys did the right thing. You even took care of Bumpy when I couldn’t!”

“Yeah, well, more like I lost her.”

“So she could find me” Ben retorts, and how can Kenji be the one in a bad mood? Ben’s hands are fidgeting with the zipper of his fanny pack, not exactly nervously (or, at least, not more nervously that he usually is), but more like restlessly. There’s something there. “You also rescued my fanny pack.”

“That’s not important” Kenji says, and really it was more about clinging to a last straw of hope than anything else; to feel, at least, useful. Ha! _Rescued_ , he said. It was a piece of fabric.

“I mean” Ben starts, kind of shocked for having to say this, “it is for me.”

But Ben doesn’t understand. Kenji’s not talking about that, about everything that went well in the end, because that’s fixed. That had a happy ending (as happy as the situation allowed, which is better than it could). No, he’s talking about the fall. About watching it from a distance, a very short distance, really being at arm’s length; and doing absolutely nothing. About listening to him fade into a deafening silence, and then looking down and seeing only darkness. About being the oldest, the strongest, the most useless. There wouldn’t have been any aftermath if he just— wouldn’t have fallen.

So Ben should be yelling. Or throwing things, or insulting him, or maybe ironically laughing at him for taking so long to realize, to verbalize; or really anything else than standing there, grave and understanding and just— sad. This isn’t working. What is the point of apologizing, if it’s not making him feel any better?

Kenji shakes his head, frustrated, because he doesn’t want to talk about it but he really needs to talk about it; and nothing sounds worse than ‘we let you fall’.

In the eerie quiet of the jungle every sound is visible, and Ben’s long breathing (it’s not really a sigh) tells Kenji he knows what he’s talking about. They lock eyes for a moment, not like they’ve been looking at each other for the past minutes, but really seeing. And Kenji lowers his head and presses his lips together, but Ben is still calm, not shouting or grumbling or coldly ignoring him; and it’s been like this for weeks and he just can’t stand it anymore, so he deflates.

“I just feel so guilty.”

“I know” Ben repeats, as if he’s talking with a very thick-headed little kid, “but you don’t have to. It wasn’t your fault. Nor Darius’, not mine. It just happened.”

“But it _was_ my fault!”

“How? Did you push me? Did you throw those flying monsters at me? Why _yours_ , exclusively? Am I missing something?”

“I’m the oldest!” Kenji says, remembering to keep his voice down at the last moment. This isn’t going how he expected it would go, if there’s really a way these things are supposed to go. Maybe not. Maybe saying sorry and being automatically forgiven and all forgotten is unrealistic; but shouldn’t Ben have said something like ‘I accept your apology’, if he doesn’t blame him? Shouldn’t he— but no, that is what put them in this mess in the first place. How can he be the oldest if he can’t even manage an apology? “I’m supposed to— take care of you guys.”

The thing is, Kenji has never had anyone to take care of him, so maybe he doesn’t know how to. He’s never had an adult apologizing to him, truly apologizing, and admitting they have done something that has hurt him in the first place; so maybe he doesn’t know how to. Every nanny he’s ever had has been a better, if temporal, parental figure than his parents; and even then they weren’t allowed to treat him as anything else than a precious investment for the future, like an expensive vase you show to your visits and never look at unless it’s in your way. He had all the toys in the world, all the clothes, all the computers and videogames and phones; and he obviously always won every game, always had the better ideas unless they were for something important, always was the best looking and the smartest, because money, money! Money is everything.

Money is status, and power, and a good (private) education, and good fashion, and a good diet and personal trainer, and good posture, and good teeth; and enough confidence to fake your way into the wilderness even though you have no idea what you’re doing and you’re not even aware that you are, in fact, a fraud.

That’s the worst part, really. He’s thought himself a fraud sometimes, but always as a passing bother. Always on the surface. Always in that how-am-I-gonna-be-less-than-perfect-if-I’m-rich kind of way; because, let’s face it, everyone wants him on their team, right? Or _wanted_ him, when they didn’t know him, when he was simply a façade and couldn’t make any mistake that money couldn’t fix. So he’s though himself a fraud; but he’s never _felt_ it, truly felt it, as suffocatingly as he did when he saw Ben’s body disappear through the window.

As he does now.

“We all take care of each other, Kenji.”

“But I need you to forgive me!” Kenji exclaims before Ben can say anything else, shy and desperate, like a scream in a whisper.

“I told you, I’m not mad at you.”

“I know, but I, you—, you’re disappointed. In me.”

Yeah, that’s the worst part.

Ben sighs, his small body looking tired again, and is Kenji being selfish for making it about him? But that’s the only thing he knows, because there has never been anyone else. He has grown up surrounded by people, by friends, by acquaintances, by business partners, by school mates; yet he can’t remember a single time he was as important for them as they were for him until now. This is the first time he’s truly making an effort in years and _seeing results_ , and even now he’s messing it up. Way to go!

“I’m not. I’m not— resentful” Ben makes a face, then shrugs. “I just wish it wouldn’t have happened.”

“I wish I’d stopped it. I should have” Kenji laments, and Ben laughs a shaky snort.

“I don’t see how. It was impossible.”

Then Kenji grunts, because, yes, _there was a way_. And Darius was doing it, and if he had helped, if he hadn’t stood there watching like a stupid statue and would have stretched his arm, maybe, then maybe— because he wasn’t a coward! He _isn’t_! He wasn’t scared, that was not the word, and Ben had just saved them; but everything happened so fast, so slow! He _wanted_ to help! It was just that his muscles wouldn’t dare to move, his legs wouldn’t understand the urgency, his arms wouldn’t throw themselves to catch him, his mind wouldn’t stay quiet to try to fill that empty silence.

“It wasn’t. I could have. But you don’t understand, I _wanted to_ , but I was, I couldn’t move—”

“I know.”

“I tried! You have to believe me, I just—”

“I know” Ben repeats, again, and every time he says it the words means less and less for Kenji; but he stops to listen. Ben takes a few moments to continue, unsure of what to say next (or, maybe, of how to say it), but there’s something in his voice that makes Kenji wait patiently. “I understand, I do. I’ve been paralyzed by fear before, I’ve been paralyzed by fear most of my life, actually” he chuckles, but somehow there’s no self-pity, “so I know how it feels. I know you wanted to help. I know your body freezes, and you can’t think, and it’s like you see things from outside and your mind is anywhere else and your body is not yours. I know. I know you’re not a coward, or selfish, even if you think you are. I know it’s not your fault, even if you think it is.”

Kenji keeps silent, maybe waiting for more (maybe hoping for more, because the alternative is either answering or being left alone with his thoughts), but mostly trying to interiorize it. He’s probably laughed at Ben for not being able to help before, for been literally scared to death, but it’s right now that he’s realized Ben has also been able to move on and not let those moments paralyze the rest of his life. Imagine!

Now the silence is heavier and a bit uncomfortable, and Kenji feels the need to apologize again but for totally different reasons, but the words never leave his mouth.

“That is like saying it doesn’t matter. Like it didn’t happen” Kenji complains, because it was still his fault. He couldn’t move, okay, but was his fault that he couldn’t move. He should have. “I don’t want you to be angry at me, but— you shouldn’t be okay with this.”

“I’m not!” Ben tries to explain again, soft and unsteady. “I almost died. I thought I’d died! And it was terrifying. But I lived, so. That has to count for something.”

“What, like what doesn’t kill you make you stronger?”

Ben shakes his head.

“I’m not stronger. Braver, maybe, not because I’m less scared, but because now I know I can make it. That’s the thing. I’m exactly as strong as I was before, but now I know it’s enough. I’m strong enough. And I shouldn’t _need_ to be, really, but that’s what it is.”

If there were a backrest on those rocks, Kenji would have leaned into it. Since there isn’t, he simply crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow.

“Not exactly a happy thought.”

“No” Ben smiles. “But hopeful.”

“Is it?”

“It is for me.”

“Well now I don’t only feel guilty, but also helpless.”

“You get used to it.”

“I don’t want to get used to it! I hate it.”

“I know. You get used to it.”

“How’s that hopeful?”

Ben shrugs.

“Because I know that whatever the future brings, I will face it. Because I know that, even if I could if I needed to, I won’t face it alone. I don’t know, I didn’t know that before. I would have called you a liar, and secretly laugh at myself in self-pity. But not anymore.” He’s still fidgeting with the zipper of his fanny pack, like it helps him feel grounded, and although his eyes drift to the side and holding your gaze isn’t his strong point yet Ben’s voice sound bold. “I’m not happy that it happened, or grateful, or, or relieved; but since it _has_ happened… I don’t know. I am proud of myself for surviving. Proud of us.”

“I wasn’t much help las time.”

“Nor was I” Ben says, and Kenji looks indignantly at him.

“That’s not true. You saved us.”

“But it is. I was only able to help in the end, and I was saved many times before by you guys. And, really, I hate it here, and I wish I were at home because I’m still terrified most of the time; but nothing’s going to magically rescue me while I hide away. I must rescue myself, _we_ must rescue ourselves” Ben stops to breathe, a bit flushed, and looks determined. “And we will.”

Kenji sighs through the nose, content. Almost happy.

“I still feel guilty.”

“And you will, for a time. But not forever. You will regret it, as I regret not having done many things in the past, but that’s also something you must learn to live with” Ben says, and again it sounds like he’s the one apologizing. Kenji looks at him, pitiful but resigned, and if they were closer he would have put his hand on his shoulder; thankful despite everything. He hopes Ben can read that in his eyes. “But guilt and regret are not the same thing, and while you regret it, you’ll know it wasn’t your fault.”

“I don’t understand the difference.”

“Well” Ben starts, struggling himself a little, “I guess with guilt you think there’s something to be forgiven; but it was just— it just happened. Like I said, nobody’s fault.”

There’s a small pause.

“The thing is” Ben adds, “that forgiveness is not going to make that feeling disappear. Trust me. It’s not magic. In any case, it’s not my forgiveness that you need. It’s yours.”

The air feels chilly, and this is too deep for Kenji to comprehend when he’s sleepy and anxious and sitting on a rock in the middle of the jungle. He understands the words, and what they mean together, but they don’t have any effect: he still feels, pardon the language, like shit. And somehow the fact that Ben is being so nice makes him feel worse, but at the same time there’s a light at the end of the tunnel for the first time (though it’s not really a light, and it’s not really a tunnel, but more like an easing on the knotting sensation on his belly and throat; like gravity presses more gently over him).

Not being perfect _sucks_. And yet, well, he could cry right now just knowing that Ben doesn’t hate him, and even thinks good of him. From happiness, I mean. Kenji scoffs a tiny laugh, a sudden and invigorating energy filling his veins.

“I don’t like this, uh, ‘taking responsibility’ thing or whatever, but I guess it’s time. I’m the oldest, after all, so you should all look up to me” he says, bashful. “You’ll see. You’ll be impressed.”

“I’m already impressed.”

Kenji doesn’t really know what to say to that, to someone that truly means it; so he only smiles, shy, and tries to make himself small. He’s not very successful.

“I will do better next time.”

“I do hope there’s not a next time” Ben tries to joke, but Kenji looks horrified for a moment.

“Of course, I didn’t mean, no! It won’t happen again!”

Ben chuckles.

“I know. But anyway” and now he purposefully shifts and sits a bit closer, putting a gentle yet firm hand on Kenji’s arm, “it will be better next time. I promise.”


End file.
